Beech Mountain Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  “Had to happen sooner or later.”

  “Will it make a difference?” I asked. “So they know who you really are. Will that stop you from continuing to live your life as you have been?”

  “Might send some more yahoos like you out here looking for me.”

  “I take offense,” I said. “A yahoo I am not. I found you, but I doubt some yahoo could.”

  “Point taken,” he said. “I’ll have to give it some more consideration. If I can come out of this being left alone, that would be good.”

  “You’re a dead man these days,” I said. “Your daughter had you declared last year.”

  “Under different circumstances, I’d consider that a good thing,” he said. “It was my ultimate goal.”

  “She’s taken control of your estate,” I said. “Living in your house.”

  “As it was meant to be,” he said. “I only regret I couldn’t transfer it to her sooner. Have you spoken to her? Is she doing well?”

  “I have not,” I said. “I assume that Highway Patrol will be in contact with her soon.”

  “She’ll know that I’m still alive,” he said. “Might cause her some legal difficulties.”

  “That’s beyond my area of expertise,” I said. “Maybe we can figure out how to make you dead again after this is all over.”

  “You are more invested in my future than you ought to be,” he said. “What gives?”

  “Freedom, brother,” I said. “I told you that I understood.”

  “I’m starting to think that you do,” he said. “Not sure why I should trust you, but I sense that you and I are kindred souls.”

  The last man of the mountains that I’d befriended ended up dead. I couldn’t tell that to Tyler Scott. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted him to trust me, but I couldn’t promise that this mess wouldn’t ruin his life, such as it was. I thought that most people would try to convince him to return to society, regain his station in life. I knew that was far from what he wanted.

  “If we get a lead on this Subaru driver, will you make a positive ID for us?” I asked him.

  “A visit to the police station will lead to a court appearance,” he said. “I won’t be testifying as Tyler Scott. I’ll only be the Beech Mountain Hermit, ridiculed and embarrassed.”

  His reply illuminated a lightbulb in my head. An idea came to me, so I bounced it off of him.

  “Why can’t you testify as Tyler Scott?” I asked. “We’ll clean you up and put you in a nice business suit. No one has to know who you are now.”

  “How do I explain my long absence?”

  “Not relative to the murder case,” I said. “Nor any of their business.”

  “You said the police used my fingerprints to identify me,” he said. “Law enforcement already knows.”

  “I assume their highest priority is to take a killer off the street,” I said.

  “What about all my other crimes?”

  “All good questions,” I said. “We get an immunity deal in exchange for your testimony.”

  “You’ve thought this through,” he said.

  “It’s been all I can think about,” I told him, honestly. “I got involved in this case, and now I want to see it through. We started with nothing, but we’re making progress. You are the key to this whole thing.”

  “I’m not making any promises,” he said. “Keep working the case. Check back with me once you’ve gotten to the point that you need me. I feel like I owe it to the girl. Maybe I’ll testify.”

  “I’ll take that,” I said.

  “Find out about my daughter, please,” he said. “Come tell me she’s doing okay.”

  “Anything you want me to tell her?”

  “I might be coming out of these woods soon,” he said. “If so, it’s best I tell her myself.”

  “Understood.”

  I’d gotten further with the man than I’d expected. I decided to leave while I was ahead. I wished him well and left him alone in the wilderness. Neither of us knew how much longer he’d be able to enjoy it.

  Fifteen

  While I was out in no man’s land talking to a mountain hermit, wheels had been turning in the real world. Brody filled me in as soon as I got home.

  “Word’s out,” she said. “Half of two counties knows that the hermit is Tyler Scott.”

  “Unavoidable I guess,” I said. “Human nature.”

  “Here’s the real kicker,” she said. “The Beech Mountain Chief is seeking a warrant for his arrest.”

  “The hermit?”

  “Yes, he’s down at the courthouse right now with a stack of files,” she said. “Rominger was here to warn us. Over thirty instances of breaking and entering and misdemeanor theft. I’m sure he’s making a convincing case to a judge.”

  “The hermit knew this would happen,” I said. “I didn’t think it would happen so fast.”

  “My question is to the Chief’s motives,” she said. “What’s the urgency? This has been going on for many years.”

  “He stood by and did nothing about a murder,” I said. “Bringing in the hermit will make people forget about that.”

  “There’s more to it,” she said. “I don’t like the way it smells.”

  “What is it?” I asked her. “His son? What are we missing?”

  “I wish I knew,” she said. “But something’s up.”

  “I need to get what I’ve learned to someone,” I said. “Rominger for one, but Angelina Will as well. Maybe they can tie a white Subaru to someone who fits the description.”

  “All the local agencies will need that information,” she said. “But it’s not up to us to dispense it. Let’s go see Rominger.”

  Back to Boone we went. It seemed like we were wearing out the road between our cabin and the office of Highway Patrol. I felt all eyes upon us when we entered the building. One of Rominger’s men directed us to an office in the back.

  “Took about a minute for his name to be leaked,” I said. “I could have used some more time.”

  “Did you talk to him?” asked Rominger.

  “I got something good,” I said. “But we can’t bring him down here with warrants for his arrest.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Why should I tell you?” I said. “I won’t subject him to criminal prosecution.”

  “Get him a lawyer if you feel that strongly about it,” he said. “But we’re trying to solve a murder case here.”

  “He won’t talk under duress,” I said. “Plus you can’t find him, no matter how hard you try.”

  “You could take us to him.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “What the fuck, Breeze,” he said. “Don’t you want to catch this killer?”

  “None of the dozen or so police agencies around here has done a damn thing to find the killer,” I said. “Brody and I are the only ones who have moved this case forward. Don’t insult us like that now. I have another lead to follow. I’m happy to share it with you and everyone else, as long as the hermit doesn’t have to worry about being arrested.”

  “We’re not the ones asking for the warrant,” he said. “You need to get this guy a lawyer, and his information will have to lead to the arrest of the murderer, or it’s no good.”

  “Tell him what you know, Breeze,” Brody said. “We’ll leave here and find a lawyer. We need them to start looking for our suspect.”

  She was right, as usual. I realized how I’d made so many bad decisions in my life. I hadn’t had her around to set me straight when I needed it. She knew just how to steer me in the right direction, and I was grateful for that.

  “Here’s the deal,” I began. “Our hermit friend was down there by the lake the night of the murder. He heard a car come in way past normal visiting hours, so he investigated. He saw a white SUV, most likely a Subaru, back down to the lake. He saw a big man with a crew cut carry a body out into the lake. Not dumped, carried gently out into deeper water and submerged. The man returned to the car and got inside st
ill wet and with muddy shoes. He got a decent look at him thanks to the car’s interior light. He saw him going away and coming back. He can identify him if we get someone to show him. He doesn’t know the person, but he says he doesn’t know anyone these days.”

  “Any guesses to how many white Subarus are on the road around here?” asked Rominger.

  “This one is connected to a big man, not fat or overly muscular,” I said. “Military-like posture and haircut. It might have a severely muddy floor, or at least traces of the mud from the bottom of the lake.”

  “Gray muck it was,” said Rominger. “Has some clay or something sticky in it.”

  “Find the car and the man,” I said. “We’ll have our killer.”

  “And you will bring the hermit in to testify?”

  “Not without immunity,” I said. “That’s not negotiable.”

  “I’m not in any position to agree to that,” he said. “That’s for the DA to decide.”

  “District Attorney?” I asked. “For petty theft?”

  “It’s all about the murder now,” he said. “Suddenly everyone is involved.”

  “Do they suspect our hermit?”

  “I think that’s the general consensus,” he said. “His identity gets revealed as a result of the murder investigation. Easy jump for the average person to make.”

  “This is getting worse by the minute,” I said. “He didn’t kill the girl.”

  “How do you know his story isn’t bullshit?” he asked. “A white Subaru has to be the single most popular car on the road around here. They’re everywhere.”

  “I sat and talked with the man,” I said. “I looked him in the eye. He’s quite coherent. He used to run a bank for Christ’s sake. He’s no dummy, and he’s no killer.”

  “Then bring him in,” he said. “Get him to talk to us.”

  “First you have to find the suspect,” I said. “Nothing will happen until then.”

  “If we weren’t friends, I might take offense to how you give orders to law enforcement,” he said. “But I understand. I’m on your side. I just want to put the killer away. I can’t negotiate with you or the hermit. Get a lawyer. Talk to the DA. We’ll look for this white Subaru.”

  “You’ll alert all related agencies?” Brody said.

  “Of course,” he said. “We’re going to have a lot of pissed off Subaru drivers very soon.”

  “Let us know when you get a lead,” she said.

  “I know that you were FBI,” he said. “But leave this to us. We can’t have you harassing the locals. Let us do our job.”

  “Sorry if I was telling you how to do your job,” she said. “But we have no intention of stopping white SUV’s.”

  “By the way,” I said. “The hermit said he was ninety percent sure on the car make, not a hundred percent.”

  “Nothing like widening the search,” he said. “But the driver is the key. Big guy with a crew cut.”

  “Right,” I said. “Not fat, not overly muscular. Just big.”

  “Got it.”

  We left his office and got in the car. We realized we had no way to research lawyers in the area, so we drove to the library for some computer time. Brody found twenty-two criminal defense lawyers in Boone. I had some experience with defense lawyers myself, as a client. I became romantically involved with a hot redhead in Punta Gorda who got me a ridiculously light sentence for possession with intent to distribute. It didn’t end well, but it was fun while it lasted.

  I had paid another lawyer a ton of money to get me square with the IRS and to repay what I’d stolen from my employer. The court called it embezzlement, but whatever. The dual settlements cost me more than I’d cheated my employer and the IRS out of, but my freedom was the ultimate goal. It had cost me everything I had, but I was willing to pay it to be free.

  We perused the internet directory of attorneys before deciding to question one Joshua Dorman of Dorman and Dorman. Brody had dug deep into the interwebs to discover his ability to effectively deal with the District Attorney’s office on behalf of his clients. He sounded like our guy. Without a phone, we had no choice but to barge into his office and ask for an appointment.

  The receptionist did her best to protect her employer from us, but Brody was too much for her. She got in the woman’s face and backed her up while I snuck past and entered the lawyer’s inner sanctum.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “I represent the Beech Mountain Hermit, and he needs your help.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “But maybe you can explain it to the police.”

  “I just left there,” I said. “They told me we needed a lawyer.”

  “You’re welcome to request an appointment,” he said.

  “I tell you what,” I said. “I’ll go ask your receptionist for an appointment ten minutes from now. You use that time to inquire with your contacts in law enforcement and the judiciary. Ask them about Tyler Scott, recently revealed as the Beech Mountain Hermit. I’ll wait in the lobby, but only for ten minutes.”

  “Tyler Scott?”

  “Highlands Union Bank,” I said. “Formerly.”

  “Give me ten minutes.”

  I left him to his phone calls. Brody was still blocking the poor woman at the front desk from getting into the office of her boss. I asked her to stand down.

  “He’ll see us in a few minutes,” I said. “You can put that in your appointment book if you like.”

  Brody and I sat down in the only two chairs available. There were two magazines on a small table. I grabbed the Golf Digest, though I didn’t play the game. Brody was stuck with something called the Legal Management Magazine. We pretended to read until Dorman called us back into his office.

  “A very interesting case may soon be before the court,” he said. “Maybe two cases. I’d like to be a part of this, assuming the necessary funds are available.”

  “I’ll pay for Mr. Scott’s representation,” I said. “Consider it covered.”

  “Let me recap what I just learned,” he said. “Fill me in where necessary. As part of the hunt for the girl’s killer, the Beech Mountain Hermit was somehow implicated. You volunteered to find him. The son of the police chief was shortly a suspect as well, but no evidence has been found to tie him to the girl. The Chief goes for warrants within minutes of finding out the identity of the hermit. Said hermit has provided information, through you, to law enforcement that may aid in identifying the killer.”

  “Accurate so far,” I said. “News runs through the police departments faster than juicy gossip at a woman’s club.”

  “We feel like the Chief is more concerned about arresting the hermit than he is about finding the killer,” Brody said. “Something feels odd to us about his priorities.”

  “Mr. Scott won’t present himself to a court if he is threatened with arrest,” I said. “We need to get him an immunity deal, or he won’t talk.”

  “You were wise to come to me,” he said. “Did someone recommend our firm?”

  “Just some quick research at the library,” Brody said. “Not much above pulling a name out of the phone book.”

  “I have an excellent relationship with all the county judges,” he said. “Not to mention the District Attorney and his assistants. This type of work is my specialty.”

  “It’s our lucky day, Joshua Dorman,” I said. “What do we need to do first?”

  “Other than a financial commitment, nothing yet,” he said. “I’ll need to initiate talks with the proper people and see where it goes. Meanwhile, we don’t have a murderer to prosecute just yet. Your friend can save his breath if the killer isn’t found and arrested.”

  “Good point,” I said. “The police didn’t get his description until two hours ago.”

  “Anything else to go on?”

  “A white Subaru,” I said.

  “I drive a white Subaru.”

  “Not big enough and no crew cut,” I told him. “You’re off the hook. I figured you for a Mercedes or
a Lexus.”

  “These mountain roads are too tough on a luxury car,” he said. “I lease my Subarus. Beat the shit out of them for two years and take them back for a new one. Company expense, of course.”

  “As many of them are on the road here, it’s still small towns and communities,” I said. “The police will narrow it down.”

  “In the meantime, I suggest the hermit stay underground,” he said. “Don’t let him talk to anyone, especially the police. Make sure he knows not to speak without me present.”

  “I’ll pass it along when I can,” I said. “I’m going to leave him alone until the killer is off the street. For his safety.”

  “The police may have been loose-lipped,” he said. “But it will take a while for the news to filter out to the general public. Our killer may not hear about the hermit’s true identity.”

  “Unless he’s a cop,” I said, just then making the connection. “Described as having a military posture. Crew cut. Big but not fat. Fit but not obviously muscular.”

  “Does that sound like someone you know?”

  “The Beech Mountain Chief of Police,” I said. “Just hit me.”

  “You reported feeling something odd about him,” he said.

  “He’s been squirrelly since we discovered the house his son was in,” Brody said. “Breeze and I canvassed the homes in the area that had not suffered a break-in by the hermit.”

  “But there was no evidence,” he said. “Or so I’ve been told.”

  “The Chief stepped aside from the investigation,” I said. “An Avery County Sheriff’s Deputy took it over. She found the kid and questioned him, as well as going back to the house. She told me herself that there wasn’t anything she could use to make the connection.”

  “It smells funny anyway,” Brody said. “Too many coincidences.”

  “It’s not my job to worry about the killer’s prosecution,” he said. “I’m here to keep Mr. Scott out of jail, and in turn securing his testimony when the time comes.”